


Slink

by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, cisgirl au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisgirl!Ziall AU, wherein Zayn and Niall meet as solo X Factor contestants and find out they sing very well together, among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hungerpunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungerpunch/gifts).



> Commissioned by and written for [Lo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hungerpunch), with my most grateful thanks. ♥ Betaed by the lovely [Ace](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asymmetric).

Niall catches sight of Zayn slipping out the rehearsal room door and she automatically fusses with her hair, straightens her skirt where she’s sitting. She picks her guitar up and then self-consciously sets it down again.

“Ooh,” says Cher, watching her. She raises one perfect eyebrow, purses her lips at Niall. “I thought I was your one true love, baby girl.”

“My one true love is beer,” Niall mumbles, but she can feel her traitorous cheeks heating up. Nobody asked Cher. Nobody _ever_ asks Cher. 

Cher’s smile sharpens. “You know I’d wondered why you kept your nails so short.” She clicks her neon green claws on the bleachers next to her. “Why don’t we have pretty Zaynie over here for a chat?”

“No it’s fine,” Niall hisses, but then Cher’s piercing the idle chatter of the other contestants hanging around outside with an ear-splitting whistle, and Zayn’s looking at them all wide-eyed like a very alarmed, very expensive cat. Niall imagines Zayn with flat kitty ears and a puffy startled tail but the image doesn’t last, shifting into visions of an elegant prowling jaguar when Zayn pauses, turning slightly in their direction. Zayn’s even a sexy imaginary cartoon. Niall’s crush is becoming pitiful.

“Yoo-hoo!” coos Cher. “C’mere, Zayn! Come sit with us.”

“Alright,” Zayn says, looking beautifully, elegantly confused. Niall tries not to stare but Zayn’s probably stared at a lot; she seems to take it in stride. Her small friendly smile as she approaches makes Niall want to bite off her own tongue. 

“I like your suit,” Niall blurts out. Next to her Cher nods, either in agreement regarding Zayn’s aesthetics or approval of Niall’s bumbling flirtation. 

It’s true at least, and something Niall’s wanted to tell her since Zayn swanned into bootcamp looking like she’d recently descended from androqueer heaven and still might have angel feathers clinging to her back. Zayn stands out. Most of the girls have their own style, their own thing, but Zayn turns the most heads out of all of them without a doubt. It’s hard to miss her when she walks in clad in lean, closely-cut black suits, white shirts unbuttoned just enough to show a bit of cleavage - not that Niall’s investigated that from as many angles as possible or anything. Her eyeliner is always perfect. Sometimes she wears red lipstick and Niall like, dies. 

“Thanks,” Zayn says, flashing white teeth and catching Niall in her soul-searing gaze. “I like your skirt. Were you out here playing?” She nods at Niall’s acoustic guitar next to her on the bench. It’s covered in butterfly and puppy stickers, which is why Niall needs a new guitar that she hasn’t owned since she was thirteen. 

“Yeah,” says Niall, though really she’d been more faffing around with some of the other contestants and leading them in dirty singalongs, at least until Dannii passed by on the way to catering and they all scattered to the winds to affect serious poses instead of making up lyrics about dicks. She smooths her skirt down her thighs, feeling better about it than when she had picked it out that morning. “Thank you.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Cher says, patting Niall on the knee and getting up, swishing her hips in her trackies. She winks. Niall definitely owes her a favor later. 

Zayn smiles, scritches at the closely buzzed sides of her hair. She is probably what actual angels look like. Niall hopes the blush has faded from her cheeks at least a little, because she still feels awfully warm. “So,” Zayn says, slipping into Cher’s vacated spot and gesturing to the guitar, “Do you know any Drake?”

-

They keep attracting crowds, there on the bleachers and in crowded stairwells, always something to wait for during bootcamp, always people around. Zayn and Niall sing surprisingly well together, running through the songs they both know, Rihanna and Beyonce tracks, old Spice Girls ballads, Kanye when Niall’s feeling daring. Niall’s fairly certain that it’s Zayn they’re all watching, Zayn with her soulful voice and long eyelashes. No one can take their eyes off her. 

Which is why it’s shocking more than anything when both of them are left standing on the stage in front of the judges, everyone through that’s made it to the judge’s house, the rest of them lingering onstage as Simon apologizes to them for not making it this year. 

“It’s okay,” Zayn murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. She reaches for Niall’s hand, grasps it with a gentle squeeze. “They’re fools not to have wanted you,” she says, and Niall gasps out a horrible laugh, turns helplessly into her arms. 

“Me,” Niall says, hiding her face in Zayn’s throat, “they’re mad for not picking you, you should have won this whole show.” She’s embarrassed to feel herself crying, smearing her tears against Zayn’s skin and trying not to inhale too deeply, make it too obvious that she’s trying to memorize the scent of Zayn’s perfume, the dark sweet tobacco scent wears. She’s out. They’re out. Niall’s going back to Mullingar and Zayn’s going back to Bradford and Zayn might as well be returning to the moon for how likely it is they’ll get to meet again. 

Zayn guides her offstage, hand on her lower back, still mumbling things about how dumb the judges are, how much they’re missing out, how talented Niall is, how beautiful. She holds Niall close, fingers in her long blond hair, and it’s just starting to register in Niall’s brain that Zayn called her beautiful when their names are called over the intercom, requesting that they return to the stage. 

Zayn doesn’t let go of her hand. If anything she holds it tighter, tugging Niall back. Her fingers flutter against Niall’s, a nervous tremble as they face the judges again, Niall wiping her eyes, trying to get herself together. She’s grateful for once that she never managed to get the hang of mascara. 

“We’ve given it a lot of thought, girls,” says Simon, “and decided that we can’t let you go quite yet. And from what we’ve overheard, the two of you shouldn’t let each other go either.”

“We’d like for both of you to stay in the competition,” Cheryl tells them, “if you’ll agree to carry on and perform together as a duo.”

Niall screams, bursts into happy tears, and turns back into Zayn’s arms. 

Zayn, ultimately, says yes for the both of them. 

-

Niall works harder than she ever has in her life and none of it feels like work at all. As much as she and Zayn had sung together before they’d never really properly practiced, sat close and worked out how best to sing together. They focus hardest on the song they’re doing for Simon but frankly when Niall’s around Zayn it’s all she can do not to just burst into happy song, any song, Disney princess ballads, Irish fight songs, Katy Perry anthems. Zayn always joins her if she knows them, grinning wide and slipping so easily into harmony that it’s like they’ve sung together for years instead of just days. 

It’s no good to be half in love and tilting ever farther with a bandmate, but it’s hard for Niall to help herself when Zayn looks back at her like she’s never seen anything more delightful than Niall’s smile. 

The third night in Marbella Niall wakes up to the click of Zayn’s reading light in the next bed over. 

“Can’t sleep,” Zayn says, looking guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Just nervous about getting through.”

“We’ll make it,” Niall says drowsily. She sits up a little, trying to shake off the sleepiness. They’ve only been in bed a few hours but the villa is quiet, the night sky deep dark through the window shades. “Do you want to practice some more?”

“We’ll wake everyone,” Zayn says. Her hair is mussed and every bit of her looks soft in the faint gold light. Niall wants powerfully to cuddle up to her, cling to her thin, angular body in her black satin men’s pajamas. 

She’s awake enough now, anyway. “We could go practice outside,” Niall offers. “It’s a warm night.” She rolls onto her belly, stretches like a cat. She can feel Zayn watching her. 

Zayn says, “I have another idea.”

-

At least Niall isn’t so self-conscious in her bathing suit in the dark. Zayn takes her hand when they step into the ocean, the water pleasantly cool slipping over their feet. It’s the most Niall’s seen of Zayn’s alleged bad girl side, suggesting they sneak out in the middle of the night for a swim. They’re going to get in trouble probably, or step on a jellyfish, or get swept away in the ocean currents, but Zayn’s hand in hers feels worth the risk. 

The ocean water slips up past their knees and Niall squeezes Zayn’s hand, says, “I think we’re gonna make it through.”

“I wanna keep singing with you,” Zayn says, swaying closer. The water laps at their thighs, and Zayn pulls her in, the soft curve of Niall’s tummy bumping against Zayn’s flat belly, her sharp warm hipbone. “We’re good together.”

“We are,” Niall says faintly. She thinks about them getting through, winning, getting signed. Touring and taking the stage in hundreds of different countries. She could be in love with Zayn for the rest of her life, and it terrifies her.

“Tell me if I’m wrong about this and we’ll forget it ever happened,” Zayn says, then looks her in the eye, leans in and kisses Niall’s mouth. 

Niall tells her, gasping when she finally lets herself pull away, that she is in fact right. 

\- 

Zayn threads their fingers together and they kick up sand running back to the villa, giggling and shushing each other when they creep back inside. “We should shower off the saltwater,” Zayn murmurs, guiding Niall toward their en-suite with her hand pressed to Niall’s lower back, Niall helpless not to do what she says but stealing kisses all the while, smudging them against Zayn’s jaw, kitten licking at her lower lip when Zayn doesn’t give them to her as quick and plentiful as she wants. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Zayn tells her, and Niall shivers, lets her own shyness die away as Zayn eagerly strips her swimsuit off, peeling the wet fabric down Niall’s body and letting her mouth follow the path of bared skin. They’ve got the shower going to heat the water and it doesn’t take long, the room steaming up as Zayn presses her mouth to Niall’s chest, licks at her nipples until Niall cries out and squirms, fumbling at the strings of Zayn’s black bikini to get her naked. 

It’s not like she hasn’t thought about this every night, waiting for Zayn’s breathing to even out in sleep in the next bed and then slipping her hand down her shorts, biting her lip and rubbing at her clit as soundlessly as possible, dipping a finger in and pretending it’s Zayn stroking inside her. Zayn’s been guiding her so gently, directing things when they’re practicing, suggesting the best ways for them to sing together, lines Niall should take, and Niall can’t help wanting that direction, needing it now. 

“Tell me what to do,” Niall gasps when they get in, her back hitting the shower wall, the tile warmed by the hot steam. “Tell me how to please you.” She’d do anything, probably, wants to do everything for Zayn, letting herself look Zayn over shamelessly, her suntanned skin and narrow body, the small curves of her breasts, tidy triangle of hair between her legs. She doesn’t even know where to start, needs too much, needs Zayn forever. “I haven’t done much but I’ll try,” Niall admits, bringing Zayn’s body to hers, holding her close under the hot spray of water. 

“Fuck, Niall,” Zayn says, her voice rough and low, hands tight on her back, pulling them close together. She shifts her hips forward, their clits bumping between them, and Niall moans. “I want your mouth on me,” she admits, leans in and licks at Niall’s lower lip, catches her lips in a kiss. 

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, suddenly more up for it than she’d even been the night before, in bed fantasizing about Zayn riding her face. She slips to her knees, guides Zayn easily over so they’re both under the water just enough to be comfortable. Mist catches in Niall’s eyelashes when she looks up at Zayn through them. Zayn is so beautiful through it, her touch soft when she strokes Niall’s cheek. Niall feels like a supplicant, here on her knees to worship Zayn. It feels right. It’s what she wants to do. 

“Can’t believe I get to taste you,” Niall says. She’s almost embarrassed about how husky her voice has gotten but Zayn just looks pleased, her cheeks reddening. It’s what Niall keeps in her mind as she moves in, touches Zayn’s cunt with careful fingers, stroking over the dusky hood of her clit, parting her lips to see her all slick and pink between. She inhales deep and then licks in, flattered to feel Zayn’s legs quake, how she moans as Niall licks into her. 

“Oh god, fuck,” Zayn gasps out, slipping a leg over Niall’s shoulder to angle her deeper in between her legs. Niall arches up to lick in from the base of her slit up to the nub of her clit, flicking her tongue over it, fucking Zayn’s cunt with her tongue, trying anything to make Zayn tremble and pleased to find that most of it seems to work. Zayn’s thighs squeeze at her face and Niall eats her out hungrily, almost getting dizzy as Zayn grinds down against her. Niall’s vaguely grateful they’re in the shower, reaching down to feel at herself, how wet she is, practically dripping onto the shower floor. 

Zayn winds her hands in Niall’s hair, moans her name and rubs against her, Niall letting her take what she needs, work herself against Niall’s mouth, ride Niall’s tongue, Niall reaching up to stroke at her thighs. It startles her when Zayn comes - not the fact that she made her do it but how wild it is, wet on her tongue, Zayn’s thighs trembling, the hot, helpless way she says Niall’s name, like she’s begging. 

Niall’s left gasping for air when Zayn gently pushes her back, her face all slick, so turned on she’s practically grinding against the floor. “C’mere, c’mere,” Zayn says, and Niall gets up on wobbly knees, nearly slipping when Zayn tugs her in, kisses her hard and greedy, licking into Niall’s mouth to taste herself. Niall plasters herself to Zayn’s warm, wet body, rubs against Zayn’s firm thigh and is just about content to handle herself that way she’s so turned on until Zayn squirms a hand down between them. She fondles Niall’s clit and Niall just decides to trust her judgment, lets Zayn guide her back to the wall. “You like fingers?” Zayn asks.

Niall nods, would probably say she likes Communism and swimming with sharks at this point if it got Zayn to keep touching her. Zayn goes slow even though Niall’s about ready to grab her fingers and ride each of them in turn just to get the full experience, at least until Niall begs, “Please, please,” all hope of seeming cool lost with Zayn’s fingertips on her eager clit, Zayn’s middle finger seeking inside her, stroking up Niall’s cunt and then pushing in. “Two,” Niall says, barely enough breath in her to manage it. Zayn gives her another and Niall grabs her wrist, presses the palm of Zayn’s hand to her clit and thrusts herself down onto Zayn’s fingers, hot and sweaty and wondering if they can take a shower after this shower to actually clean up. Then she starts to come and that’s all that’s on her mind anymore, the perfect pressure of Zayn’s hand, Zayn’s mouth on her jaw telling her she’s gorgeous, perfect. 

They cling to each other for a bit after, until Zayn yawns against her shoulder. “I think I can sleep now,” Zayn says. 

They both do, very well and cuddled close.

-

They perform flawlessly for the judges, and make it through to the live shows. 

They’re the first queer girls to win The X Factor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D If you want to share this story or show me some Tumblr love, feel free to like or reblog [this post](http://tmblr.co/Ztp4ay1XwZkFE). ♥


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